Dancing
by MonsterBrat
Summary: Intimacy without trust, being comfortable without being exposed. Hiding feelings without pushing someone away. This is what dancing is all about. Hisoka and Illumi meet, talk, and dance around each other. Mild yaoi warning.


**A/N:** Weeeell, this is the first HxH fic I've posted. I'm kinda proud of it, actually. Generall my HxH doesn't get this coherent. I'll admit I started out with a totally different idea, in fact Hisoka wasn't even supposed to make an appearance, but after a little while it got so... well, coldhearted, that he ended up sneaking in to cause havoc anyway. What was supposed to be an Illumi introspective turned into a casual meeting.

I think I used the word "dance" too much in the first little bit, just couldn't think of any other way to say it. Sorry about that.

**Warning:** Yaoi (Illumi and Hisoka, obviously) although it's mild enough to be shounen ai I don't think you can describe those two with that term regardless of what they are or aren't doing.

* * *

Intimacy without trust, being comfortable without being exposed. Hiding feelings without pushing someone away; this is what dancing is all about. Hisoka and Illumi meet, talk, and dance around each other.

**Dancing**

Illumi dances. He wears a dress, something black and short his mother picked out, and his hair is in some sort of complicated bun with an over-elaborate needle stuck through it. The shoes he wears are thin high-heeled monstrosities his mother insisted on. He had to change his face a little, too, just to look more like a girl. And then the makeup. It chafes at his face, unused as he is to feeling something so akin to dirt smeared thickly over his skin, with the vague scent of perfume, something he has always associated with the thought of mother.

She had a lot of fun dressing Illumi up. Kikyou Zaoldyeck had always wanted a girl, and never bothered to hide the disappointment that as pretty as the children she had were, they were still all too male. Dressing Illumi like a doll had been her favorite and indeed only motherly activity, but eventually that had subsided. By the time her interest in dolls picked up again Illumi had grown much too tall to be toyed with, and Karuto proved to look better with makeup on than he ever had anyway.

Thinking of his little brother in a dress similar to the one he wears makes Illumi's sensibilities twinge. It's all too revealing, and he doesn't like having his little brothers paraded around like puppets in this shameless sort of masquerade.

Thankfully, his dance partner soon releases him to stand brooding in the corner, watching his prey across the floor.

Aside from dancing, he has to talk. So many different guests and all of them obsessed with hearing their own voices. The fat old diplomats, the younger ones who are only here to show off their fancy cars and their money, the ladies who like to chatter like strange, exotic birds. Illumi has to smile at them and talk calmly in a voice that's just slightly higher than normal.

It's all very tedious. He looks at the fat man he's supposed to kill tonight, and his mind just seems to shut down in total boredom as another young man (or old? He looks rather older than Illumi, and has a beard) asks him to dance. What an annoying thing it is, Illumi thinks, to be assigned to these formal functions. His mother could go, but her face still hurts for some reason and anyway, she isn't as complacent as Illumi is about taking these ridiculous jobs. Kikyou would put up such a fuss, of course father would tell him to go, when he only has to name the time and place for Illumi to be there. Silva knows Illumi will die before he disobeys a command, no matter how embarrassing it might be, and he exploits the fact all too often.

Honestly, though, sometimes he thinks the kind of people who specify these jobs have nothing better to do with their millions than hire a Zaoldyeck. It's not like this is hard, a five year-old with the right figure could do it.

The old man turns out to be only 35, as he jokingly explains. It is supposed to be interesting to Illumi, as are the innuendos he spouts. He ignores them all as much as polite society allows, and otherwise answers with phrases that sound pleasant but in the end leave the man confused as to their actual content.

Illumi is not particularly good at it, blending into society. His father says he acts too aloof, sticking out even when standing in a crowd because Illumi cannot quite manage the subtle nuisances of belonging somewhere. The concept, in the end, makes no sense to him.

Here, he is glad to see, fitting in is not required. Being beautiful, and rich, and unmarried. That is all he has to be and Illumi doesn't have to act too much, only talking more than usual in his empty drifting way. In the end he always leaves these people wondering whether he said yes or no, or if he is showing pleasure or annoyance. In this situation it makes him all the more desirable, and while his attention is only focused on the fat old businessman across the dance floor, regaling bored youth with his financial adventures, it doesn't hurt the mission that other eyes are staring at him.

The second dance ends, and Illumi's shoes ache. It is not quite the pain one gets from 5000 volts of electricity, but the annoyance of it is equal. Strange, that Illumi can go through torture for hours on end (that is if he doesn't simply drift off in a content sort of way and not even feel it,) but cannot manage to ignore the strange way his hips shift with the high-heels and the chafing at the back of his ankle, like being slowly gnawed at by an admittedly very small animal. He wishes to sit, but then his view of his target might be obscured.

Vaguely, Illumi wonders where all the money he earns goes, if it cannot buy him some shoes that fit. Not that he makes a habit of wearing high-heels (although god knows Hisoka does and Illumi is beginning to wonder how he manages) but being paid what adds up to the cost of a country annually should buy him some proper equipment for these kinds of missions.

Someone brings him wine, a younger man this time who looks vaguely pleasant and stupid, a sort of bright, mindless smile Illumi is used to seeing. He reminds Illumi of Killua's little friend, except of course the boy would never manage to fit so well into a tuxedo and talk about some social event or other that York Shin City happens to be famous for. Thankfully, all he has to do is stand there and listen and sip at fairly good quality white wine. The target's right within his sight, he doesn't even have to worry about it. And the man just keeps talking and talking…Illumi has already forgotten his name, or rather it is stored in the part of his mind that catches and holds onto every piece of potentially useful information.

Surprisingly enough, it isn't the target that finally distracts him from nodding politely at the man, but a blob of red hair making its casual, meandering way across the floor in his general direction. Illumi's eyes follow it, although the movement is so slight it's barely possible to see at all. The man doesn't notice that his attention has shifted from the space above his right ear to half-way across the dance floor.

At first Illumi thinks that he is being illogical and is somewhat upset with himself for thinking ridiculous things, after all Hisoka is not the only redhead in the world and it's stupid to assume such things. Then he realizes that the nen signature is familiar, and after a few moments of looking past the crowd he gets a clear picture of the clown in a suit, hair down for once and no ridiculous makeup. After another moment the head swivels towards him and a hand raises, casually. Illumi, wondering if he is inviting trouble and then deciding he is bored enough not to care, raises a hand subtly in return. Then he goes back to nodding and half-listening to the man still talking, downing half his glass of wine.

Sure enough, Hisoka is there in a few moments, all oily smile (practically a leer, but he seems to try to control himself) but with enough sense to hang back for a moment while Illumi makes his excuses. Finally, he walks away from the man whose name he still cannot remember, and glancing back at his target for a moment (still talking nonsense about whatever money he's managed to gain this year) makes his way towards the clown.

Illumi has finished his wine, and as they walk across the floor silently he snags two new glasses from a passing waiter. Hisoka, when offered, makes a face and comments about alcohol being bad for you.

For someone who lives the way he does, always half-way towards death, Hisoka is so fastidious when it comes to alcohol. Illumi thinks it has to do with upbringing, after all Hisoka probably never had to sit through dinner with an aristocratic family, trying every wine his mother could force down his throat before his father caught her "smuggling underage children alcohol" (father, the hypocrite that he is, somehow changes his opinion on feeding Illumi poison during family dinners. When it is time for training Illumi drinks things he is quite sure are not any better for his health than alcohol).

Hisoka suggests going out of the dance hall for a bit, since it is becoming crowded. Illumi explains about the target, not going so far as to point him out in case Hisoka gets the urge to ruin his mission. He has to keep cautious around the magician, Hisoka always seems to end up doing something unexpected and half the time it isn't anything good. Mostly it does not upset him, Illumi honestly doesn't care all that much what Hisoka does, however when it comes down to the only two things that are important—family and his job—Illumi can't let Hisoka do anything he might not approve of.

They end up drifting towards a corner, standing there together in silence for a blessed moment. Hisoka is blatantly staring at Illumi's fake breasts and the painfully pale skin the dress reveals. Illumi doesn't care, if Hisoka being a pervert bothered him he'd have killed the man by now. Instead his mind is drifting between idly watching the target and thinking of his shoes.

"Ahh…Ms. Sandra…" another young man, this one somewhat more thoughtful than the previous one. He is more polite, too, taking time for introductions and bringing along several friends. Illumi is polite and distant as ever, until Hisoka slips an arm around his waist.

Illumi seriously considers excusing them both and going somewhere no one will see him mutilating Hisoka's bloody corpse.

The men all take a hint quite well, unfortunately. Suddenly Hisoka is the center of attention (oh, he probably loves it, Illumi thinks) and they are all asking to be introduced to Ms. Sandra's dear "friend". Before he can say Hisoka is his cousin or something, the man has to go and spoil it by declaring himself Sandra's fiancé (all of two months, but they're so in love!).

On the plus side, no one bothers them anymore. After a few uncomfortable moments of introductions, the men all make excuses and retreat. Illumi wonders if this is detrimental to the mission and concludes that it probably is, but not enough to spoil the evening.

What is spoiling the evening is that Hisoka's hand is _still_ around his waist, and him acting as if it is the most natural thing in the world. Then he has the nerve to comment, too,

"Your parents really pick horrible assignments for you." And leans in closer, smiling in that fake innocent way he loves so much because it makes his face look like a child's.

"Remove your arm and step away from me." Illumi has learned that Hisoka doesn't respond well to threats. In fact, they make him so excited he can't help himself sometimes. Commands work a little better, although Hisoka never really listens to people enough for anything to work very well. So while he would gladly slip out a discrete pin and make sure Hisoka never uses that arm again, he has to restrain himself.

"Sandra-koi, don't be like that. I'm just trying to get rid of annoying people for you." The way he says it, as if Illumi is some helpless, defenseless little girl that is being molested, really gets to Illumi. Usually, he does not care about other people's opinions of him, but the way Hisoka is so polite makes him think the man condescending when he isn't. It is strange, the way Hisoka's moods shift so quickly.

"All the same, I'd prefer it if you didn't." With that the arm slips from his waist. Illumi restrains his own arms from forming his normal posture, hands crossed across his chest. In this situation it would surely look strange. Hisoka once commented that it's so defensive, but charming. Since that time, Illumi has become uncomfortable using that gesture.

Still, Hisoka's presence is becoming unnerving. It is not that he is doing anything inappropriate, in fact Hisoka is standing next to him in a perfectly controlled fashion, allowing just enough space to suggest that they are standing together, but not that they are intimately related. His face even has the perfect expression on it; calm and noble, if somewhat distant. It doesn't look as if he even remembers that Illumi is next to him, but still, Illumi is nervous.

"How long do you have to stay here?" Hisoka asks, breaking the silence that had descended between them.

"A little while longer. I'm just waiting for the target." Illumi's eyes drift over the crowd, making sure not to linger on said target. He does not trust Hisoka not to do something stupid and ruin the mission.

A waiter passes by with wine, and Illumi snags a glass for himself. This time he doesn't bother with Hisoka, if the man won't drink it's probably for the best anyway, who knows how much Hisoka can take and Illumi is certainly not going to baby-sit a drunken fool tonight. For himself, the alcohol has practically no effect at all, except for the taste it's totally meaningless. Illumi doesn't even like the taste that much, the point is in keeping his hands occupied.

"Do you want to dance?" Illumi nearly chokes on his drink. Or rather, he thinks he would if he allowed himself a reaction. Instead, he takes a calming mouthful of wine and is disappointed when it is gone and he has to answer. He could say no, but then Hisoka would either get bored and wander away, or decide it to be a challenge and try harder. While it would be better if he left, Illumi knows he'll regret it later when he's gotten bored again, and at least a fiancé keeps people away. In this case, he supposes it's best to just give in and get it over with.

"Alight." He says, finishing the wine. It's his third glass of the evening, but if Hisoka wonders about it he certainly doesn't show it. He raises an eyebrow (so mockingly polite Illumi just wants to stab again) and smiles, that familiar psychotic face flashing on for a moment. It's almost a warning, or a suggestion of things to come.

They dance. Hisoka is not a bad dancer, although he is allowed to lead and so gets the better position of the two. Illumi, who dances only because he was taught to do so for precisely these types of missions, has to awkwardly remind himself to just follow Hisoka's lead and not do anything. At first he stiffens and tries to keep some semblance of space between their bodies, but eventually the way Hisoka just doesn't seem to care one way or another gets to him, and he relaxes. Watching other couples across the dance floor, Illumi reasons that they must not look like fiancés, being so far apart. Reluctantly he allows himself to move closer, until he is pressed against Hisoka. The arm around his waist tightens just barely, and then they continue to dance. Illumi admits to himself that this is not so bad, Hisoka is not a bad dancer, and he is warm. It is not as uncomfortable as all that, being touched so much. Innocent, almost, like being grabbed during a fight.

"Enjoying yourself, beloved?" Hisoka chuckles. Illumi has the urge to step away from him. That sound is all too familiar and no matter how many times Illumi has heard it, it still unnerves him. Hisoka sounds _hungry_¸ and he is concentrated on Illumi now and no one else. His nen is controlled, for now. Illumi does not know that he would not make an excuse to end the dance if it wasn't.

"Quite." He answers. Hisoka's hand on the small of his back presses, and reluctantly Illumi moves to accommodate, finally laying his head against Hisoka's shoulder. He forces himself to relax, more for Hisoka's benefit than for the other guests. The hand that is holding his own squeezes, just gently enough to be taken as mocking or affectionate or both.

"Those shoes must be uncomfortable." There's a grin in the sound of his voice, although Illumi cannot see the face from his position. He wonders if it's obvious, or if Hisoka just magically knows somehow, or if he's speaking from experience. Somehow he thinks it is obvious, that Hisoka can just tell that the shoes are uncomfortable. It is frightening, a little, because Illumi is sure he has made no movement or facial expression to indicate anything being wrong. Hisoka has always had the unnerving ability to tell what Illumi is thinking without being given any clues.

"Not too much." He answers, and shifts his face to be hidden from sight. Not a particularly unexpected motion, he knows Hisoka knows that Illumi dislikes being stared at, or rather that he prefers to avoid the spotlight. It would not be too revealing, he thinks. It's to be expected.

Signs within signs within signs. It's always like this with Hisoka. Illumi never knows how much of what he's thinking Hisoka can divine, how much more he has to hide, if there's even any point. Somehow he thinks Hisoka just sees the barest of intentions and it's pointless to disguise them, but even if it's true Illumi can not force himself to stop trying to foil the clown. After all these years, it's become natural.

"It's really different, high heels. Pretty though. You make a good-looking girl." The hand at his waist emphasizes the words. Illumi blinks deliberately, mind drifting. He can see the target, see him getting up…

The mission came with specific instructions as to the method of death. It didn't include the gender of the assassin, however, for which his father was glad. If the buyer had requested a girl they would not have accepted the mission, most likely. After all, the only woman in the family is Illumi's mother, and it's not worth the price to get her to do such a shameless thing. However, in this case it doesn't matter what gender Illumi actually is, as long as he's willing to do what's asked of him.

"I have to go for a moment." He says, and Hisoka's hand tightens explicably around his waist, instead of letting go. For a moment Illumi wonders if there won't be trouble, having a row with Hisoka right now is certainly not worth whatever payment he'll receive for the assassination, but…

"Do you want to go home, afterwards?" the words are whispers, so uncharacteristic of Hisoka to be so quiet, not even demanding.

"Alright." Illumi knows it's easier to just say yes and make excuses later. He doesn't know where home is, doubts that Hisoka actually lives in York Shin or anywhere else permanently, but a hotel room or whatever will be fine too. Illumi has one hired for himself, but he has nothing in there anyway so it doesn't matter.

"I'll find a taxi, then. Meet you in the foyer?" Illumi nodes, Hisoka disengages and they walk off the dance floor. After a moment of what appears as quiet conversation, Illumi goes off to find the target, no doubt headed for one of the rooms provided to guests for the night.

He knows the room the man will be staying at, although he was hoping to be able to catch him outside for a moment, so he would be expected later. Hisoka showed up at the wrong time and Illumi didn't get the chance. Now he walks quickly, almost forgetting to move gracefully and ending up beyond annoyed at the shoes. He catches the target before he makes it to the room after all, and after a moment of conversation and a smile from Illumi the two continue down the hall together, and then inside the room.

It only takes a few moments in the end, then the body is disposed of, Illumi has cleaned up after himself, and finally leaves the room, making sure not to be seen by security cameras, not that it matters.

Hisoka _is_ waiting in the foyer, and he's hired a cab, which is more than Illumi was actually expecting. He had hoped maybe the magician would get bored and leave, so Illumi could go back to his own hotel room and sleep a little. The best part of this job was supposed to be the few hours of free time Illumi could enjoy before he had to go home, with no siblings to look after or new assignments to do. He is rather disappointed to see the chance for undisturbed sleep fade.

"Went well?" The magician asks, with that exasperating smile. Illumi doesn't bother responding, only walking calmly to stand beside the magician. With him in high heels and Hisoka in normal dress for once, Illumi finds himself the taller of the two.

They walk out of the mansion together, and on the curve of the garden path a taxi is waiting. Hisoka offers his hand, like a gentleman, and Illumi takes it if only for the benefit of any onlookers. He sits in the taxi, waiting for Hisoka to give instructions, and toes off the shoes with an unexpected pleasure.

They end up kissing in the cab. Hisoka is shameless, Illumi thinks, and why is he not doing anything about it? He is being so _stupid_, so utterly irresponsible, to even let the magician get as far as he does… it is such an unnecessary thing, especially with Hisoka, who is dangerous and far too perceptive. Illumi should have picked someone better, or rather someone worst. Someone disposable, harmless, or no one at all. That would have been best.

Now it's too late for that sort of thing, Illumi has the thought that if he decides to stop Hisoka will most certainly not comply and it'll just end up being a useless protest. Illumi does not plan on fighting over sex, it's frankly not important enough. Maybe if Hisoka were someone else, someone who could be defeated easier, someone who could be counted on.

The chuckle in his ear causes Illumi to close his eyes, just to avoid the look he knows will be on Hisoka's face. Of course Hisoka would think of this as another of his mad games, a fight, a conquest, no matter that no one's actually stopping him, that he might as well be the only participant considering how much Illumi is actually reacting.

"You should calm down. It's not like you're even a virgin." The kiss is on his cheek, this time. An oddly calming gesture, one Illumi is certainly not used to. He does not know if anyone's ever kissed him on the cheek before. The way Hisoka is practically pinning him into a corner shifts a little until they are simply sitting together again, Illumi's legs practically in Hisoka's lap, Hisoka's arms around his shoulders. For a little while no one moves.

Hisoka is strange. There's no other word for it. He's dangerous, certainly, but then so many people are it's to be taken for granted. And he's mad, but then what is insanity, anyway? Illumi is fairly certain that he himself is not quite sane either, at the very least he's a little neurotic. He doesn't know if he's ever met any adult who _isn't_.

No, Hisoka is just strange. Foreign, like someone outside of Illumi's considerable range of experience, and maybe a little familiar in a vague way, as if from a dream. No, more like from a mirror. Sometimes Illumi sees himself in Hisoka, a glimpse of blankness that doesn't belong on the magician. Maybe that's why Hisoka always knows what he's thinking, can always tell exactly what to say to get the best result, will always do something that makes Illumi hopelessly confused and entirely relaxed at the same time.

The next kiss is considerably better. Not particularly passionate, demanding, certainly, but not loving. It's the sort of kiss Illumi himself prefers, just a meeting of lips with nothing unexpected behind it. Familiar and a little tired, maybe.

"Hmmm." A pleased sound breathed into his ear. This is familiar too, a comfortable place, with Hisoka's hands all over him, as if they're dancing, and his chin resting on Illumi's shoulder, bright red hair in his face, smelling vaguely of shampoo. So ordinary, not a word associated with Hisoka, but inescapably applicable. Illumi's hand is in the hair, toying with the strands. He realises he likes that color, almost painted, it looks so larger than life. Not really copper, more like just poppy-red. As if Hisoka had a bucket of paint splashed on his head. He doesn't know if it's coloured or whatever, doesn't particularly care. Hisoka's eyes are incredibly green, if seen closely enough, he remembers. The colors match well.

"You're such a child." Hisoka comments, in that tone that says he knows he's being insulting but tells Illumi he shouldn't take it too seriously, which Illumi inevitably does. Tonight he doesn't bother with a retort, just runs his fingers through Hisoka's hair again and takes a breath.

"You're not that young, you know. Just relax already, Illu-chaaaan." The hands grab his ass suggestively, but Illumi doesn't react. He is still sitting in that familiar place, remembering the kiss, content in a blank sort of way that means he doesn't particularly care what happens anymore. Hisoka can just do what he likes. Illumi _is_ relaxed, or as relaxed as he's ever been. He doesn't feel particularly otherwise, at least.

_Not that young?_ If anything, Hisoka is old. He is nearly 27, isn't he? It's not such a bad age, but Illumi, who is 24, finds it amusing to be called a child by him. He has never thought that anyone might consider _him_ a child, not even his grandfather who has a right to do so. He is used to being the oldest of his siblings, treated like the adult instead of the child, one of the elders instead of simply the oldest child. Always nearly twice the height of the others, always looking after them. Illumi grew up a long, long time ago. It's barely even a memory now.

"Damn it, you're impossible." With that Hisoka huffs and shifts away to sit sulking in the other corner of the car, and Illumi himself sits back without protest. He doesn't particularly care of they have sex or not anymore, in fact tonight he'd probably prefer to just sleep, with Hisoka or without him doesn't matter. He realises he really _is_ relaxed, even around Hisoka who normally makes him antsy. Maybe it's that kiss, or the one on his cheek, or just the way Hisoka has been acting tonight.

"God damn it." Hisoka does not raise his voice, but Illumi just stares at him, relaxation fading into the familiar guarded feeling of being trapped with a predator, not quite knowing what to expect.

"What do you want, exactly, Hisoka?" He asks, finally. Unlike the magician Illumi is calm, controlled, no matter what he'll never quite let go of the logical part of his mind that analyses every situation with a cold-hearted perception.

"Nothing. Never mind." Hisoka crawls back over and they kiss again, Illumi not quite relaxing after all. Eventually it goes a little bit further, but by that time the taxi has stopped and they have to move to a fairly well-appointed hotel room.

In the end it doesn't get too far after all. Illumi is left with bruised lips and the bun his hair was in is destroyed beyond recognition. Hisoka disappears to take a shower, and Illumi takes the opportunity to completely take off the stupid dress and borrow a spare shirt he finds hanging in the closet. After that they switch, and while Illumi showers, Hisoka lies back on the bed and contemplates sex, and sleep, and Illumi.

He finds himself bored, antsy and angry without any outlet but the boy in the other room. Hisoka had planned the evening to be entertaining, who'd have thought he couldn't have his fun with that damned assassin.

In the end nothing does happen. Illumi comes back with his partially wet hair and his rumpled shirt and lies down on the bed. When Hisoka makes it clear he doesn't want anything Illumi goes to sleep, not particularly tense or visibly caring of sharing the bed. Hisoka finds himself tracing fingertips across the cheek he'd kissed, brushing the long hair back from the face, annoyed but unwilling to do anything about it.

He had thought, mistakenly, that there would be something to fight with beneath that beautiful surface. That there isn't makes him annoyed, and angry, and bored. If he were anyone else he would feel protective, but Hisoka can't get by the total disappointment to give a shit about the rest.

END

A/N: I tried to put into perspective the mind-games those two play with each other… or rather the mind games Hisoka _tries_ to play… he's always in control, but in a way he doesn't know what to do with that power… he keeps trying to get Illumi to respond and Illumi _doesn't_. Hisoka thinks, probably, that Illumi's holding back, because he's obviously thinking things beneath the surface, they just never make it through…

He thinks that if Illumi trusts him, or gets relaxed enough, but that's not true either. Illumi isn't _suppressing_ anything that Hisoka hasn't seen, in reality he just doesn't have the urge to act, to react, anymore. Hisoka just doesn't get it, how far down that sort of thing goes.

When he finally understands he's disappointed, of course.


End file.
